


The Music

by booksdragonmagicfiddle



Series: Original Works [1]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksdragonmagicfiddle/pseuds/booksdragonmagicfiddle
Summary: This is a story of a little girl and her music. Her wonderful, impossible music.





	The Music

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting anything, so any feedback is welcome. If there are any spelling or grammar errors, or even just a poorly worded sentence, tell me and I will fix them. Maybe not straight away, but it will get fixed eventually.

I lay under the sheets with so many thoughts of the previous day going through my head. A whirlpool of thoughts pulling me down, down. Down into an unfathomable bottom. Until, without warning, it stopped. And there, floundering in my own thoughts, that’s when I first heard it, the music.

It was so unlike anything I had heard before. At first thought it was coming from next door, but then I realised that it wasn’t muffled at all, it could have come from right in front of me. And yet, it was so, so very far away. It was like it came from everywhere and nowhere. I mentally scolded myself for that. That would have been impossible. That night I fell asleep to the sound of that music. The sound of that impossible melody. The melody that came from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

After that I didn’t hear it again until around a week later. And it had grown. It had begun with only a simple, beautiful melody. But after a month of hearing it more and more frequently - to the point where I herd it more nights that not - it had grown into a full orchestra. And it kept on growing. By then I heard it every night, and I had made a game of trying to see if I could find the new part.

By that point I had stoped wondering where it came from. It just was. And it comforted me. It made the endless, endless rutine of doctors and tests and more doctors and nurses that were always just a bit to nice, just a bit more bareable.

I hadn’t told anyone about my music, least of all the hospital doctors, if I had they would have thought I was crazy. So I kept it to myself. I caught myself humming bits of it throughout the day. It never seemed to fully go away. And for that I was greatful, so very greatful.

It was like this for so long I forgot what it was like not to have the music there. But one night, it just stopped. That night I fell asleep to the sound of silence, wondering if it would ever hear it again.

A few days after the music stopped, a doctor came to see me.

I got to go home.

I got to go **home!**

 

That night the music came again. Oh! The wonderful music. But this time it was different. This time there was a song.

“ _Away, away you shall fly away,_

_O’er the peaks and vales_

_To the lands beyond_

_Away, away, you shall fly away,_

_And never return to me._

_Gone! Gone you shall be from me,_

_And I will neer see you again_

_Gone! Gone you shall be from me,_

_Though I wait for you evermore.”_

Then, for the last time I drifted to sleep. To the sound of music.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem at the end in italics is not mine. That belongs to Christopher Poaloni - writer of the Inheritance Cycle. I have no claim to it. I couldn’t write poetry to save my life, so I chose one that I thought would fit the best.


End file.
